Puppy Love
by autismmom31910
Summary: Just a madcap adventure of the boys trying to find a stray dog's owner. (One shot fic)


Peter Tork turned the corner as he exited the ice cream parlor. It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon... the sun was shining, no rehearsal, no responsibilities. It was the perfect day for ice cream and a stroll around the neighborhood. He hummed a tune as he joyously licked at his strawberry ice cream cone.

While minding his own business, he suddenly stopped, getting the feeling that he was being followed. Turning around, he scratched his head in confusion when he didn't see anyone there. Shrugging his shoulders, he continued on.

There was the sensation again. Peter turned around again. He didn't see anything this time either.

However, now he felt like he was being watched. He was just about to continue on his way when he heard the sound of barking. As Peter looked down, he saw a shaggy haired, floppy eared, brown mutt. He sat up, begging and waging his tail at Peter. Peter leaned down, smiling and scratching the dog behind the ears.

"Hey little fella," he said, as the dog licked his face, "are you lost?" The dog wagged his tail and panted as it pawed at Peter's arm.

Peter looked around the dog's neck for a collar or some sort of identification, but there was none. Peter wasn't sure what to do. He didn't feel he should leave the dog behind. Of course, taking the dog back to the pad wasn't an option either. Pets weren't allowed. If Mr. Babbit found out, he would have a fit then kick them out.

Of course, Peter reasoned that perhaps they could hide the dog. Micky and Davy would surely be willing to carry out Peter's scheme, but Mike would surely put his foot down. He was always the voice of reason and practicality.

"Sorry little guy," Peter said as he started to walk away, "I can't take you with me. My landlord will blow his top.'

The dog barked once again and followed behind Peter. Several times, Peter turned around to shoo the dog and to deter the dog from following him.

"Go on," he said, "shoo!"

This continued until Peter got back to the pad. He walked in the door with the dog right at his heels.

"Hey groovy! A dog!" Micky exclaimed as he jumped up from the hammock and raced to pat the dog.

"Have you gone crackers, Petah?" Davy asked. "Mike will absolutely flip."

"Why will I flip?" Mike asked as he descended the spiral staircase. His head snapped to attention as soon as he heard the barking.

"Oh no, Shotgun. He's gotta go. Mr. Babbit will have us out on our ear in two seconds flat," Mike declared, pointing toward the door.

"But Mike," Peter began, "I tried, I really did try. I shooed him all the way home. He just wouldn't go."

Mike sighed as he looked at the dingy little dog. The dog whimpered as it stretched and crouched to the floor. After scratching his ears a bit with his hind leg, the dog yawned and fell asleep.

"Well, this is just fine," Mike said sarcastically, "what are we gonna do about this dog?"

Just about that time, the boys heard a knock on the door, more like the sound of pounding.

"Open up!" Mr. Babbit shouted, "I hear a dog! No pets!"

Peter and Davy looked at each other with worried looks. They had to get the dog out of there, and quickly.

"Take him down to the beach," Mike commanded in a whisper.

Peter carefully scooped up the dog, causing him to stir just a bit. Then he and Davy exited out the patio door. Once the dog was out of sight, Mike opened the door for the angry landlord.

"Good afternoon, Mr. Babbit," Mike said as calmly as he could. Mr. Babbit ignored the greeting and pushed past the lanky musician.

"Here doggie, doggie," Mr. Babbit said in a sweet voice, as he also whistled for good measure. "Come out, come out wherever you are."

"Mr. Babbit, that was no dog," Micky said.

"More werewolf imitations?" Mr. Babbit guessed as he cocked an eyebrow.

"Ow! Ow!" Micky howled, then gave a nervous laugh.

Just then, a gentle rain shower began. Mike winced, remembering that Peter, Davy, and the dog were outside. He became discouraged at the thought of trying to get rid of a wet dog smell and cleaning up wet sand off of the floor. He stood there hoping Mr. Babbit would leave soon before Peter and Davy caught their death out in the rain shower.

"All right," Mr. Babbit said, "I don't have time for this foolishness, so I'll go. However, if I do catch you with a dog in here, out you go!" Micky and Mike both cringed as Mr. Babbit slammed the door behind him.

"Man, I think he means business," Mike said to Micky through his teeth.

"And how!" Micky exclaimed.

Just then, they both heard a gentle tapping on the patio door. " How about letting us back in," Davy said with irritation. As Mike opened the door, a soaked Davy, Peter, and stray mutt made there we back into the pad. Davy and Peter stood there shivering as they vigorously tried rubbing their arms. Their hair was plastered to their heads as water dripped from it's ends. The dog, who seemed no worse for wear, walked right past them all and vigorously shook the wetness from his fur.

"No dog! Bad dog!" Mike reprimanded as he tried to lead the dog away from the couch he had just now soaked with rain water. He looked at the wet sand all over the floor he had just cleaned and gave a defeated sigh. The apartment now smelled horrible. Even if this dog did remain quiet for the time being, the smell of his wet fur would surely give him away to someone. What would happen if Mr. Babbit decided to show up then? No amount of hiding would deny the fact that they had a dog hiding in their midst.

"Peter," Mike said sternly, "you have got to get this dog cleaned up... and now. We can't have him making a mess all over the place."

"Ok Mike," Peter said in a sullen tone. "Come on boy, " he told the dog as he tried to lead him into the bathroom by the scruff of his neck. It was then that the dog let out a loud bark. "SHHH!" Peter told the dog, as he placed his index finger to his lips. Noticing he was having a bit of difficulty, Davy came along side and helped usher the dog into the bathroom.

...

As Davy ran the bath water, Peter sat with the dog on the floor and talked to him softly as he patted his fur.

"Come on boy, you have to cooperate. Be good, and I'll give you a piece of bologna, ok?" The dog just panted and wagged his tail.

"Ok mate. The bath is ready. Get that dog in here and let's get this over with," Davy said as he made a face and pinched his nostrils shut.

The dog began to whimper as he backed away from Peter and Davy.

"Come on boy," Peter said, as he tried to pull the dog toward him. The dog let out a low growl as he gave resistance and refused to budge. Finally Davy came along side to lend a helping hand. With the two putting in their best team work, the dog was finally in the bath.

"Down boy!" Davy said as the dog brought his paws up on the side of the tub. He tried to push him back down in, but the dog raised again, this time shaking bath water all over the place. "Yeech!" Davy replied as he swiped dirty soap suds from his cheek, 'That's disgusting!"

"Don't pick on him, Davy. He can't help it. Dogs don't like to get wet. He's probably scared too because we're strangers."

"Well that may be all well and good, but he doesn't have to drench us," Davy complained as he took a sponge to the dog's back.

The dog didn't seem to mind the rest of the bath. It was as if he realized that these two humans were trying to help him out... trying to make him feel better.

...

Mike paced the floor back and forth as Micky looked on while tapping out a rhythm on the kitchen table with his drum sticks. Mike turned and glared in Micky's direction.

"Man, would you cut that out?"

"Aw come on man," Micky said, still continuing to drum, "why you gotta be so uptight for?"

"Sorry Mick," Mike apologized, "I sure do wish Davy and Peter would hurry up with that dog's bath. I'm scared to death he's gonna bark or something. Then you know what that means. Mr. Babbit will hear and..."

"Out we go," Mike and Micky said at the same time. Just about that time, the dog came trotting into the living room, soaking wet, and was being chased by Peter and Davy who were carrying towels.

"Here boy! Here boy!" Peter said. "Let's dry you off." However, before Davy or Peter either one could catch the dog, he had shook himself, as more wetness dampened the furniture. Worst of all, he let out a bark as he pawed at the front door.

"Shh!" Micky said, trying to hold the dog's snout. "Cool it! Do you wanna get us kicked out?"

"He can't understand you, Micky," Davy said with a roll of the eyes.

"Pete, let him out the back door so he can run around a little bit... maybe he has to do his, um, business," Mike said hesitantly with a blush.

"But Mike, we just gave him a bath!" Peter complained. Just about that time, the dog barked and whined again. Mike cringed as he heard an unwelcome banging on the door.

"OPEN UP! NOW I KNOW YOU HAVE A DOG IN THERE!"

"Now what are we going to do?" Micky whispered in a panic. "I don't think a werewolf impression is going to get us out of this one."

"Take him back outside!" Mike hissed to Davy. With a nod, Davy led the dog out the back way. Once the dog was out of sight, Mike nodded to Peter to go ahead and open the door.

Mr. Babbit, without so much as a greeting, walked right into the apartment. His chest was puffed out and he had a determined look in his eye.

"Here boy! Here boy!" He began to say as he made his way around the three remaining gentlemen. He looked in every corner, peered in every room, and behind every door. He strolled around the pad, helping himself into every closed cabinet as though the boys weren't even there.

"Look, I don't know where that dog is now... but I do know you have one... that wet dog smell, and the barking, and this," he said holding up a clump of wet fur. "Now, I won't have this. There is no use in averting me. There is a dog here somewhere, plain and simple. You've got twenty four hours to get out of here."

"No! Wait!" Peter bellowed. Tears shown in his eyes and he tried his best to look directly at the angry landlord.

"Well?" Mr. Babbit said with his arms folded. Peter went to the back door and summoned Davy to come back in with the dog. Upon seeing the landlord, Davy's eyes went wide.

"Peter! Have you gone crackers?" Davy asked. Peter ignored his question and then spoke plainly to the landlord.

"Please, don't punish them. Kick me out. It's my fault," Peter begged, "this little dog followed me home. I tried to get rid of him... I really did."

"No man. Come on, Peter," Micky whispered under his breath. However, Peter continued.

"We just didn't know what to do with him. Could you please give us some time to find the dog's owner?" Peter asked. "If no one claims him in twenty four hours... I'll... I'll pack my things and be out of your hair... no arguments. Is it a deal?"

Mr. Babbit looked down at the hand that had been extended to him. There was absolutely no reward in this for him what so ever. Those boys were always late with their rent, he was constantly telling them to lower the noise they called music, and more than once he had gotten caught up in one of their schemes. However, he knew deep down if he didn't give this boy at least the benefit of the doubt, he would surely hate himself in the morning.

"Alright," Mr. Babbit said with a sigh, "twenty-four hours is all you get! If he's not gone by then, out you go!"

"Yes Mr. Babbit," Peter said with a grin, "thank you, Mr. Babbit. I'll find his owner one way or another."

...

That evening, the Monkees got busy. They called the pound, the animal shelter, the veterinarian's office... inquiring all of them about the little shaggy haired mutt in their possession. No one knew a thing. No one had reported a missing dog. They had even asked their neighbors.

"Now what are we gonna do?" Davy asked. He sat at the kitchen table with his chin resting in his hand.

"How about the dog groomer? He's close to the ice cream parlor," Peter said.

"Come on Peter!" Mike interjected. "That dog was filthy when he came in here. Do you really think he escaped from the dog groomers?"

"Yeah," Micky added, "besides that, the dog groomer would have come running out of his shop to catch him" Peter hadn't thought about that.

"Well, it was an idea anyway," Peter sighed.

"No, I think the best thing we can do is take that dog's picture, develop the film, take it down to the copy shop and get some posters made up," Mike suggested, "in the mean time Peter can walk down a few more blocks and see if any of those folks have seen this dog. Davy, perhaps tomorrow morning you could recall the pound. Perhaps someone may have reported him missing by then."

"Okay boys," Micky said as he rubbed his hands together, "let Operation Lost Dog commence."

...

Once all the posters had been printed up, all four men went about nailing a poster to every tree and pole they came across. Micky had been so busy humming "I'm Gonna Buy Me A Dog" that he hadn't noticed Peter following behind him... who, by coincidence, was nailing his posters to the very same trees and poles on the opposite side.

"Hey man! Watch where you're going!" Micky said, as Peter bumped into him. "Go find your own trees. These already have posters."

"Well... I thought it was a good idea," Peter said, defending himself, "then the folks coming from either direction can see the posters."

"Well Pete," Mike said as he scratched his head, "it's not a bad idea... but we just don't have the money to print off more posters. Could you please pick another block?"

"Yeah," Davy said, "why don't you and I go towards the ice cream parlor... that is where you found the dog in the first place, right?"

"Sure," Peter said, "and maybe someone in the park across the street has seen him."

"The park! Of course!" Mike said. "We should have thought of that first. People always take their dogs to the park. Depending on how far and how fast he ran, perhaps his owner couldn't catch him before he started following you."

So, they made their way to the park. Of course, it was full of children at play, young couples sitting on benches, older couples feeding the ducks, and lots of dogs... plenty of dogs. The dog sniffed the air and raised his ears. He let out a shrill bark as he got loose from Peter and made a beeline towards a French Poodle who had been resting under the shade of a tree.

"Hey! Come Back!" Peter yelled as all for men ran towards the park. Once there, they noticed that the stray dog was whimpering as he paced back and forth in front of the Poodle. Every time he came close enough to sniff her, the Poodle would snap and growl at the mutt.

"Ah, the language of love!" Micky said.

"He's a real Davy Jones," Mike replied, as he watched the mutt do his best to show off in front of the female Poodle.

"HEY!" Was Davy's only reply. Suddenly, the sound of a woman's voice had caught the group's attention. They turned around to see a pretty and petite blonde come running up behind them.

"Toby! You bad dog! I've been looking for you all afternoon," the woman shouted as she knelt down in front of the mutt and threw here arms around him. She then got up and faced the four young men in her presence. "Where did you find him? How can I thank you?"

"Well, Pete here found him, and the dog just sort of followed him home from the ice cream parlor," Mike said as he pointed to Peter.

"Oh, Toby loves ice cream. I hope he didn't bother you much... thank you for looking after him. I've seen the posters hanging around," the woman said with a blush and a smile. Her blues gazed gently at Peter.

"It was no trouble at all," Peter stammered, completely ignoring the nervous sweat that had broken. She was a pretty young lady... and pretty, young ladies rarely ever talked to him.

"Well, thank you anyway... Peter. My name is Dottie," the woman said, shaking his hand, "how can I ever thank you?"

"Um.."

"I know! How about I buy you and Toby and ice cream. Ice cream sounds good right about now. "

"Well um, okay," Peter said with a grin. With that, Peter offered his arm to Dottie as he led them to the ice cream parlor with Toby following right behind.

"Well would you look at that!" Davy said in disbelief.

"Yeah... Pete comes home with a dog and makes off with a babe," Micky said with arms folded and shaking his head.

"Well boys," Mike said, "that's how the cookie crumbles."

The end


End file.
